


Scales and Sacrifices

by ToraOkami303



Series: Raised by Predacons AU [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Jazz and Rico were basically already feral kids this is fine, M/M, Raised by Predacons AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27236755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToraOkami303/pseuds/ToraOkami303
Summary: Steelblazer just wanted to live peacefully in a forest for a few vorns… She definitely didn’t want to accidentally start a vehicle mech revolution.
Relationships: (eventually), Jazz & Ricochet (Brothers), Jazz/Prowl, Prowl & Red Alert (Amica), Steelblazer (OFC) & Jazz & Ricochet (Mother and Sons), background Inferno/Red Alert
Series: Raised by Predacons AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1988638
Comments: 94
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter One: Who’s the Real Monster here?

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to PastelAgender for Volunteering to be my Beta Reader!
> 
> If Steel is hard to understand let me know I’ll scale back her accent. ^.^;
> 
> Edited 11/2/2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editted some typoes, let me know if I missed anything obvious.

Steelblazer lumbers through the crystal trees, careful not to rub her scales against them. She wants to leave as little trace of the paths she takes as possible, a lifetime of hunting the most dangerous of her kin who scorn both the laws of the Predacons and the laws of the Vehicle bots has trained her to be careful. Now she wants to just take a nice break, relax in the forest. Ignore the village nearby, you just can’t escape them anymore. There’s at least a small settlement in all the good hunting grounds.

Inevitably, even with all her care she leaves a mark on the forest that just screams ‘A Predacon has taken up residence here’ she is not too worried about that. Most villagers just leave a singlehorn or zap-pony offering, those that try to hunt her will find her nest is too well hidden to attack.

The lithe steel grey predacon with a golden visor stops, her audial horns perk up as she catches the sound of crying to the east. There’s a clearing that way, something she tends to avoid as it leaves her too open to attack. However, the cries are clearly younglings in distress. Whether it is another predacon or not, it doesn't matter, she can’t just  _ ignore _ younglings who need help. She slips silently through the crystal trees until she’s in a good position to peek into the clearing, checking to see what danger the younglings are facing before she charges in.

What she sees is a scuffed silver youngling with a bright blue visor, long audial horns and oversized sensory panels tied backplate to backplate with what must be his sibling as they are identical in every way except for their colors and a slight size difference. The older youngling is a tarnished bronze with a sharp red visor struggling wildly against his bindings causing his sibling to be tugged this way and that. She flickers her own visor through a few visual settings to check for traps but there is nothing but two younglings left tied in the clearing.

Huffing at the upsettingly familiar scene she sneaks out of the treeline towards the frantic younglings intent to cut them free and dump them on Collet Pinion to care for or seek a foster family for. Or maybe given how squirmy the larger one is she should wait until they arrive at Collet’s cave to cut them free. She’ll see if they can agree to behave.

“Hey, Bitty. Stop squirmin’ ‘n’ don’t hit me. If ya agree ta those terms Ah’ll cut ya free ‘n’ take ya somewhere safe.”

Both younglings snap their attention to the predacon, though Steel is not large by her own kind’s standards she is a convoy class by vehicle standards. The silver youngling’s visor pales to almost white at the sight of her. Meanwhile the bronze youngling’s visor darkens with intent to harm.

“Where yar stomach?! I ain't gunna let ya hurt my brother! I’ll kill ya myself if the adults are too cowardly ta do it!! ‘S not our fault a stupid predacon moved in!!!” he screams thrashing harder. His sensory panels flapping angrily, bashing his sibling’s smaller ones.

“Ah ain't gunna eat ya. That’s a filthy lie Nova made up ta excuse huntin’ us. Even our criminals dun fraggin’ eat ya, that’s just nasty. Who da frag told ya it was yer fault ah moved here?” Steel sits nearby, curling her long tail around her pedes like a photovoltaic pussycat, although with her own tail being half again the length of her body means it wraps around a bit more than once. She intends to let the youngling tire himself out before trying to transport the pair to her friend.

“Everyone!! They always blamin’ us when something goes wrong! Bad crystal harvest? ‘S those slaggin’ cursed younglin’s! Singlehorn got away durin’ the hunt? ‘S those fraggin’ cursed younglin’s!” He howled, trying desperately to free his servos, rage blinding him to the dents he’s creating on both himself and the sibling he so adamantly wants to protect from harm.

“Slag ‘n’ those fraggers call  _ my _ kin da monsters.” Steel huffs shaking her helm.

“We’re not cursed! We’re not!!! We’re… we’re not c-cursed.” His voice slowly cracks then comes out as barely more than a whisper. He finally stops struggling, clearly running out of energy to fight.

“Yer not cursed. Dunno why da frag those slaggers think ya are but ya ain’t got da stink av da unmaker on ya so ya ain’t cursed.” She croons, she’s not helped with younglings in vorns but one doesn’t forget the right tones to take.

The silver one’s audial horns, which were already lowered, dip even lower. His soft voice chiming in.

“Only cursed mechs have sensory panels or white optics. I got both, Rico just got the panels.”

“Well that’s not true. Anyone with a Praxian in their lineage might get sensory panels. ‘N’ White optics are a medical condition not some sign av doom.” Steel snorts lifting one clawed servo to lick casually.

“Punch says Polyhex is near Praxus. ‘S that true?” He asks softly tilting his helm

“Yaa that’s true. ‘S that where ya Carrier ‘n’ Sire are from? Ya look it.” Steel smiles slightly, careful not to bare her fangs.

“Think so. They abandoned us. Embarrassed we both were cursed. Punch’s the only nice one in da village…” As he talks his visor shifts from a pale blue to a calm cobalt.

“Cept when he’s Counter. Then he’s an aft.” So called Rico pipes up eyeing Steel suspiciously but seeming calmer now that his lack of curse status has been affirmed.

“Ah know someone like that. Rosanna ‘n’ Flipsie are her names. Total sweetheart as Rosy, kind av a glitch when Flipsie. Ya guys gunna stay calm if ah come ova there ‘n’ cut ya free?” Steel tilts her helm watching the younglings carefully. She doesn’t want to spook them again.

“I guess. Where ya gunna take us if ya ain’t gunna eat us?” Rico grumbles tugging a little at his restraints again.

“Ta my friend Col, she helps bitties find good homes. Or just raises ‘em herself. Depends if anyone wants a bitty.” Steel stands, her tail swinging back around behind her as she pads silently closer. With a quick flick of her claws she cuts the pair free from the cord tying them together.

“We ain’t bitties anymore. We got altmodes already.” Rico declares pushing himself to his pedes turning and reaching to help the smaller up. He flinches a little when he notices the dents on his sibling’s armor.

Steel makes the appropriate impressed noises at the declaration of how big they already are, vaguely knowing attaining an altmode is an important step in the vehicle bot’s life cycle. She personally does not understand the delay, predacons are born able to transform between root and disguise.

“What are ya names? Ah know ya are Rico but what about yer brother?” She questions, seeing no harm in having both the mechling’s names for the upcoming travel into the mountains.

“I’m Ricochet, he’s Jazz. Only Jazz is allowed ta call me Rico.” Ricochet growls glaring at the giant femme.

Steel dips her helm in understanding, no sense antagonizing the bitty.

“Alright Ricochet ‘n’ Jazz. We’re gunna walk up that there mountain ta get ta Col’s cave.” Steel turns walking slowly towards the mountain she had gestured to with her helm.

“What’s yer name?” Jazz asks curiously, holding Ricochet’s servo as they walk in her shadow.

“Ah’m Steelblazer.”


	2. Chapter Two: Getting Attached

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steel didn't mean to get attached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another big thanks to PastelAgender for being my Beta Reader~
> 
> I drew this sketch of Steel and the kids, scale might not be exactly correct but I just really wanted to do a little doodle:  
> https://toraokamiartblog.tumblr.com/post/633252832726876160/im-super-excited-about-my-raised-by-predacons-au

Steel leads the way towards the mountains, keeping her pace slow so the younglings can keep up with their tiny legs. She watches them out of the corner of her visor idly curious about their lives in the village. It’s not uncommon for orphans to be offered to predacons, and they might not be traditional orphans but their creators certainly are out of the picture. She wonders if it’s really as bad as Ricochet's screaming implies or if the bitlet is just bitter about being an offering. Well she could hardly blame him if it was the second option, she certainly would be pissed if she had been offered up as a sacrifice.

“So, ya bits started learnin’ ta hunt yet?” She questions turning her helm to face them properly. She has no clue when the vehicle mechs usually start teaching their young to hunt but if they have alt-modes they surely also have learned some survival skills right?

“No… No one wanted ta teach us.” Jazz replied softly, despite the visor covering his apparently white optics Steel can tell the youngling isn’t meeting her gaze.

“Well that’s not gunna stand. Ah’ll show ya some tricks on the way up.” She huffs turning her helm forward again. She started helping hunt the moment she had her pedes under her. Sure she wasn’t  _ good _ at it until she was a few vorns old but she’d been taught at least.

She could feel the disbelief in both youngling’s fields, it made her spark ache. They really had only seen kindness from that one mechanism it seems. This was hardly even a  _ kindness _ , it was a necessity. How could an entire village fail to teach two younglings basic survival skills?

“How come no one wanted ta teach ya?” She questions, trying to find some logic in the treatment.

“Cause it meant givin’ us bows.” Ricochet grumbles kicking a fallen crystal chunk angrily.

“No one wanted us ta have weapons.” Jazz adds tucking close to his elder sibling. “They think we’ll attack ‘em”

Steel hesitates for a nanoklik at that admission then gives a harsh laugh.

“If they really didn’t want ta get attacked they shouldn’t av givin’ ya a reason ta retaliate.” She growls glaring ahead, slag it she can’t help but feel for the younglings. To be this cruel to a pair of younglings just because what? The villagers don’t like their frames? They could have adopted the pair out to some Praxians if that was the case. She’s considering heading to Megatron and petitioning to wipe that town off the map. Sure wiping a vehicle town off the map will throw a wrench in her kin’s attempts to form a lasting truce with the vehicle mechs, but can their society really blame her for being pissed at the lack of empathy from these villagers?

\---

They continue through the forest towards the mountain, Steel occasionally pausing to carefully pick the younglings up by their scruff bars and move them over large obstacles. The first few times she does this Ricochet loudly protests, apparently he’s too old to be scruffed anymore. Steel ignores the protests, if they were done being scruffed the bars would be removed by now. Jazz seems no more happy with the treatment, but remains silent instead of yelling.

Steel idley wonders if the smaller silver youngling is really any gentler, or if he’s just learned quickly to bide his time silently  _ then _ strike. It’s too early to really get a picture of his personality but she can hardly imagine there’s  _ no _ fight left in him when he’s still kicking.

At the next large fallen crystal tree, after she moves Ricochet to the other side but before she can scruff Jazz he finally strikes. Well, not exactly strikes but does his first act of defiance this entire walk. He ducks away from Steel’s mouth plates and crawls under the fallen crystal. A narrow opening Steel herself has no hope of using serving as his path around the obstacle.

Steel watches amused shifting so she can see both sides of the crystal trunk, waiting for the youngling to emerge. After a few kliks of waiting Jazz crawls out from the other side where Ricochet is waiting. He scrambles to his pedes looking bravely up at Steel with a bright visor.

“We ain’t gotta go around everythin’ the same as you” Jazz declares, continuing to courageously meet her visor before finally dropping his gaze after a bream.

“No ya don’t. Ya got yer own ways av doin’ things.” Steel confirms with some amusement. Though picking them up is likely to be faster most of the time she concedes to let the younglings try their own ways for a bit. They will eventually tire of scrambling under the trees themselves.

For the next few trees in their way she waits letting the younglings figure out how they want to move around the obstacles. She’s greatly amused by Ricochet’s insistence to climb over  _ everything _ just to prove that he  **can** . Jazz on the other servo seems to consistently favor crawling under things, pinning his sensory panels to his back every time he does. Anytime there is not enough space to crawl under Jazz proves to be just as much of a ro-simian as his brother by stubbornly climbing over the obstacles in his way.

\---

They walked mostly in silence for a time, it wasn’t until they were starting up the mountain she spotted something worth discussing. She pauses curling her tail down and around the younglings to get them to stop as well. She whispers softly to the younglings.

“There’s a Chelonoid just up ahead.” She turns her helm to give the younglings a sharp smile. “Want ta see how ta hunt one?”

Ricochet perks up at the mention of actually learning how to hunt something right there. He stands on the tips of his pedes to look over Steel’s tail towards the Chelonoid, it was a bulky one with a spiky back shell.

“We dun have any bows or daggers” Jazz questions quietly, flattening himself on the ground to look under Steel’s tail.

“Ah don’t need any av that stuff. Got my claws ‘n’ got my fangs.” Steel ducks her helm to gently pick up Ricochet by his scruff bar and puts him up on a branch in a nearby tree. Then dips her helm and picks up Jazz to do the same. Soon both younglings are out from underpede and, almost more importantly, are out of the line of sight a Chelonoid depends on. 

Once that is done she shifts the weight of her whole frame, fluffing out her scales then slicking them down before leaping towards the Chelonoid. She comes down at an angle the mechanimal has no time to prepare to defend itself from, quickly smacking it onto it’s back before jabbing her claws into the softer armor on its abdomen. A quick upwards slash from there and she’s managed to crack the creature’s spark chamber, extinguishing it.

Both younglings cheer excitedly at the sight, causing Steel to purr happily and fluff with pride at providing for her bitlets. She hesitates at that thought, when did they become  _ her _ bitlets? She turns her helm to watch them clamber down from the crystal tree and dart to join her at her kill.

“How can we do that? It’s so big!” Jazz asks excitedly marveling at the Chelonoid that’s almost bigger than he is. Steel purrs softly, glad she found something that draws the shyer of the pair out of his shell.

“Well ya will probably need ta go after a smaller Chelonoid but it’s mostly the same. Get ‘em on their back and move fast enough ta offline ‘em before they can react.” She uses her claws to pry some armor off revealing the creature’s lines and then uses the armor as makeshift bowls to catch some energon for her younglings.

“We’ll need ta get ya some daggers. Collet might have some, she likes ta collect stuff like that.” She hums waiting until they have taken their fill before taking the rest for herself.

“Aren’t ya going ta leave us with her?” Ricochet asks warily looking up at Steel, up until this point she had been talking as if they would be passed off to this Collet. Now it almost sounds like she’s going to stick around.

“Ah changed my mind. Ya bitties are alright, and Ah might as well show those villagers that even a predacon got more spark than ‘em.” She shrugs carefully watching their reactions, if they are opposed to the plan she won’t force it. She also won’t press the idea she is their creator on them if they are against it. Whatever title they decide to give her will be fine with her.

Ricochet seems to preen at the idea of showing up the villagers, meanwhile Jazz looks more wary about the plan. She’ll just have to prove to him that she cares about them, she’s already gotten one glimpse at the happy youngling under all those emotional walls. She knows the ability to love and trust is in there, she just needs to earn it.


	3. Chapter Three: These are my Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steel introduces her kids to Collet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: PastelAgender

Steel keeps Ricochet and Jazz close to the cliff wall on her left, not wanting to risk them walking on her right where there has been a sheer cliff for some megameters. She herds the younglings towards a ledge which is only a little larger than Steel. Once they are on the ledge Steel turns her attention to the only cave opening on this ledge, which is partially covered with smooth polished crystal boards about as tall as the average vehicle racer frame. She watches with amusement as Ricochet immediately starts trying to climb the boards that are twice his height, unlike the fallen trees though there is nothing to get a grip on and the crystal is harder than the metal of his little claws.

“Steel, what’ve you found this time?” A cheerful, if a little manic, voice calls as a shining silver and gold helm pokes out of the cave. The silver and gold predacon looks down at the younglings scrambling away from the board, small curved devilish horns adorning the top of her helm.

Yellow optics squint down at the younglings, seeming to process what she is seeing. She lifts one long leg and steps over the boards, the rest of her sleek frame quickly following. Two sets of large, sail like wings spread out from her back. Light reflects off the bolts and screws keeping the wings together. She settles down to sit in front of her cave, the knuckle of her lower wings resting on the ground to help balance her as the upper wings fold against her back.

“I don’t remember you having younglings… have I accidentally deleted memories again?” She asks curiously flicking her gaze up to the land based predacon across from her.

“No Col, that village down in da valley left ‘em ta me as offerin’s. Ah’m gunna raise ‘em.” Steel smiles curling her tail on the ground in front of the younglings so they have some separation from Collet.  _ She _ knows Collet is harmless, if a little crazy but the younglings don’t know that.

“Oh! How lovely~ Come in Come in then! Star’s due to visit soon so he can bring the news to Megatron, no need to drag the bitties all the way to him. Besides the way Star complains it seems Megatron is being a protective grouch, best not bother him until the newlings settle and he relaxes.” Collet dips her upper wings down to help push herself up onto her pedes. Once she is standing her wings spread out to balance her and she steps over the board into her cave.

Steel chuckles picking up each youngling in turn to set them inside the cave before stepping over the board as well and leading the younglings deeper into the caver where Collet has set up her nest of meshes, mosses and insulation. All around the nest, carved into the walls of the cave, were shelves containing all sorts of random items.

When Steel and the younglings enter the nest area the eccentric femme is nosing through some of the shelves looking for Primus knows what. Steel has learned it’s better not to try and make sense of Collet’s actions. Only Blockaide seems to understand what goes on in that processor.

“Since ya are lookin’ ‘round those shelves anyway. Ya got any vehicle mecha’s knives? Ah gotta teach da bitties how ta hunt.” Steel comments keeping half her attention on Ricochet and Jazz as the pair explore the nest curiously.

Collet hums a little continuing to look through her collection, not replying to the question for several moments. Finally she pulls a large patchwork blanket from the shelves cheering happily. She sets it aside before pushing herself up onto her hind legs, wings spread out wide for balance as she reaches for the tallest shelf. She takes down quite a few different weapons putting them on a lower, empty shelf.

“I don’t know if any of these will work for younglings but I’ve collected lots of the funny mecha’s weapons.” Collet giggles a little, shifting to sit down looking at the pile. “Silly bots think they can kill me.”

Ricochet climbs through the nest trying to get to the wall the shelf is on to climb up. He growls swiping his tiny claws against the smooth metal wall trying to climb up. He no longer has the magnets sparklings would use to climb the world.

Collet dips her helm down to pick up the angry youngling only to get her muzzle scratched. 

“Oh! Feisty little bitty are you?” She grins, showing off rows of uneven teeth.

Steel huffs, bonking her helm against Collet’s shoulder.

“Don’t. Let me handle ‘im.” She grumbles dipping her helm to quickly grab Ricochet by his scruff bar before he can dart away. She plonks the youngling on the shelf, looking around for Jazz and chuffing in amusement when she notices him halfway up the wall to the shelf already.

“How ya doin’ that bitty?” She asks in amusement watching him seemingly climb the wall without anything to anchor himself with.

“Magnets still work” Jazz says matter-of-factly continuing his climb up to the shelf. One servo up, other pede up, pushes himself to scoot up, then repeat with the other limbs.

“Ain’t know why his didn’t deactivate.” Ricochet pipes up leaning over the edge to watch his little brother’s progress.

Steel hums watching, keeping close enough to react if for any reason the magnets fail but letting the bitty have his moment of independence.

“Interestin’ probably part av yer adult blueprints. Ya’ll need ta get adult strength magnets for ya final upgrades. Maybe sooner dependin’ what weight class ya are.” She smiles as Jazz clambers onto the shelf to join Ricochet.

Collet watches with a fond expression, she’s a sucker for bitties. Steel happens to know one of her favorite stages is before they lose their magnets and can climb all over her. She uses a talon to sift through the pile of weapons until she finds a flail that is missing it’s handle.

“Maybe you could hold this with the magnets!” She exclaims dragging it over to Jazz.

He looks at the flail curiously, he tries to pick up the spiky head. He grunts trying a few times to lift it up before looking up at Collet incredulously.

“I can’t pick it up, ‘S heavier than Rico.” He says confused.

Steel chuckles scooping up the flail and putting it aside.

“Maybe when yer bigger, ‘s a bit much for a younglin’.” She comments with amusement, silently noting the weight and size is definitely for a convoy class mech. There is no way Jazz can wield it, if he wants a flail she’ll have one custom made.

They spend some joors going through the weapons until the younglings have a set of daggers each and another weapon to learn each. Ricochet picked a claymore designed for an omnicon so a good size for a youngling to learn with. Jazz picked a bow, also designed for an omnicon.

While the younglings are playing around with their daggers on the ground Steel chatted Collet up a bit about the differences in raising a Vehicle Mech as opposed to another Predacon. She keeps part of her optical feed on the siblings to be sure they don’t stab each other but otherwise just lets them get a feel for their new weapons. Just as Steel is getting ready to call it an orn there’s a screech at the entrance as a mostly Red Predacon with White and Black accents flies into the cave and lands with a flourish.

“Carrier! Have you missed your  _ favorite _ creation?” He declares fluffing out his scales and flight feathers preening for attention.

Collet giggles hopping over to nuzzle the slightly smaller flier, purring happily.

“Yes my lovely Star~ How is being Megatron’s most  _ loyal _ and  _ trusted _ advisor treating you?” She croons ushering her grown creation towards her nest. Most of her adult creations bristle at the treatment but Starscream seems to revel in being spoiled.

Steel watches with amusement, moving to lay down near the brothers. She lets them take shelter near her elbows as Collet catches up with her creation, the way he acts one might think he’s the youngest but he’s one of her middle creations. Steel flicks her tail lazily stirring up the metal shavings left over from the most recent carving into the walls.

Soon Collet catches sight of Steel laying patiently watching the conversation with her younglings and gasps.

“Oh, oh right! Steel’s adopted some bitties! You’ll be a dear and pass the good news on to Megatron and Soundwave won’t you dear? Somewhere around here I could have sworn I had…the plaques...” Collet starts nosing through her shelves again.

“Ya gave ‘em ta me Col. ‘N’ Ah got some tokens ta reimburse yer time.” Steel pulls a pair of metal plaques and some crystal tokens carved out of rare obsidian.

As quickly as she has them out Star is there to swipe the payment out of her claws, subspacing them. He also takes the plaques but pauses to examine them critically.

“Well… it’s not the  _ best _ clawmanship I’ve seen but Soundwave shouldn’t complain. We’ll add it to your family tree, it’ll cost  _ extra _ for me to tell your overprotective brother  _ for _ you.” Starscream sniffs, putting the plaques in his subspace for safe keeping. He’ll take them when he’s good and ready to leave, no sooner.

“Nah. Ah’ll visit ma family ta tell ‘em myself. Go round before da solstice hits, get in early so Ri don’t bite ma tail off for detracting from whatever fancy new dish he wants ta wow us with.” She chuckles casually crossing her arms at the wrist to shelter the younglings more.

Starscream sniffs again, upturning his olfactory sensor as he turns away. He flicks his tail feathers in Steel’s muzzle before trotting back to Collet’s nest.

“Suit yourself.” He huffs sprawling out in the nest, clearly indicating he has no more interest in this conversation.

Steel chuckles, deciding if she cares enough to get up and go to the guest nest or if she’ll just nap right here on the floor. The Younglings grumbling prompts her to move them all into the nest before she calls it recharge time for her little family.


	4. Chapter Four: The Vorns Fly By

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: PastelAgender
> 
> This took a while to get out since none of the muses wanted to focus.

Steel finds herself using her disguised form more in the next two vorns than she did in the thousands of vorns she had been alive previously. It’s much easier to teach the younglings how to use tools when she’s of a size more similar to them than in her natural size. Add in the fact vehicle mecha’s tools are designed for digited servos not clawed ones, and the fact she can’t stand on two legs in her natural form it just was much simpler to use her disguise despite it being a bit of an energy sink.

Presently she is sneaking through the treeline in her disguised form leading the bitlets towards a nitrotiger, they have been doing fantastically against prey that can’t put up a fight but she wants to ensure they know how to hunt something that packs a bite.

Of course for their first dangerous hunt she’s picked a  _ weakened _ nitrotiger, it was injured sometime recently enough it’s movement is still affected but has healed enough it is no longer leaving a trail of energon. She has no idea what injured it, but finding something suitable that’s already injured is better than trying to delicately injure a nitrotiger or pneuma-lion enough to limit its movement but not enough to just outright kill it. A tiny niggling part of her processor says letting two bitlets barely half the size of the beast they are hunting is probably a bad idea but she ignores that part of her processor with the skill of immense practice.  _ This will go fine. _

\---

It did not go fine, oh Primus, oh Unicron,  _ it did not go fine _ . Steel has scooped up both bitlets in her arms bolting towards the nearest healer she knows of. Pharma trained in the vehicle mech’s towns so he  _ should _ know how to fix Ricochet’s leg, if he doesn’t Unicron can take the skeevy fragger!

Stupid, clever nitrotiger was playing up it’s injury. Unicron take the fragging beast,  _ it played them _ . 

\---

For all she hates the sheevy mech she can’t deny he does good repair work. Steel lays in her nest watching Ricochet and Jazz spar. Barely two megaorns later you can hardly see where his leg was injured in the first place. Steel has put a moratorium on hunting dangerous prey until she can find something less likely to tear one of their limbs off if she’s even a nanoklik too slow to intervene.

Ricochet is annoyed at the ban, claiming he wasn’t that badly hurt. His memory files of the incident corrupted leaving him with no clue how close he had gotten to joining the well that day.

Jazz remembers, and has been getting increasingly vocal about telling Ricochet off for dismissing the seriousness of his injuries.

Steel shifts to lay on her back watching the pair upside down, maybe she’ll send a comm to Barricade, have him capture some turbofoxes.

\---

Steel lay under her very furious Amica laughing her tail off as he chews her out for not telling him she adopted some bitties. He lives the next valley over, which while not a great distance for beasts of their size is still a long distance to drag two younglings to see a mech they don’t even know. With how long their kinds live two vorns without contact, even for two amica, is not a terribly long stint.

For all his fury at being left out of the loop about his new ‘nephews’ he  _ did _ bring about 10 turbofoxes for the mechlings to practice hunting. Apparently that was as many as he could collect without risking the population near his hunting grounds.

\---

Barricade ended up staying for the rest of the vorn until Ricochet and Jazz had gotten up to hunting mid-size dangerous prey without aid. Cryotes are cowards to start with but between them and the rare hyenabot Ricochet and Jazz have proven they can handle themselves against something with a bite.

Steel was happy to have her Amica’s help, he actually had experience raising some bitlets himself. Steel had helped Collet, Barricade and her Brother before but had never been the sole caretaker of a youngling until now. She’s not convinced Barricade is actually going all the way back to his own preferred nest but she’s not going to complain if he’s nearby to help in case of another emergency.

\---

After a few more vorns, once the mechlings are nearing their adult upgrades, Steel starts asking around about small bounties she can take. At first Lockdown can’t wrap his helm around the fact Steel wants a few jobs well below her skillset, he  _ knows _ her skillset he’s been handling the bounties since before she was enframed so it’s not like he took over after someone else who had a better grasp on her skills. Eventually Steel brings her mechlings to one of the meetings, and it finally clicks for the older bounty hunter why she wants a few low risk jobs.

“Gunna train ‘em up to be assassins too?”

“If they wanna. See how they like it after these.” Steel sweeps her tail back and forth behind herself, not sitting down. For all Lockdown is in charge of bounties on dangerous predacons, he is still a skeevy piece of scum that toes the lines of legality. He’s under a leash but if he’s given half a chance no one has any illusions that he wouldn’t snap the chain and tear you up to get his freedom. Steel had made it clear to Ricochet and Jazz that they should stay within her reach but outside Lockdown’s reach.

“Don’t know about teachin’ the motor mechs to hunt our own. But Megs is talkin’ up that new Prime so I don’t got a pede to stand on.” Lockdown grumbles going through the reports to find a few problem predacons the tiny mechs can probably handle.

He presents the files to Steel who picks three, wanting to give each a chance to work independent of each other then together. All are within a decent walk of each other so they should be able to set off and pursue these three and bring them all in at once. Steel makes a note to swing by Barricade’s nest and borrow a transport cage.

“Thanks mech”

\---

Steel watches Ricochet and Jazz work together with pride, they had each done relatively well alone but together they were a force to be reckoned with. She had inserted a metal board between the bars to block the two captured predacons from the open door to the cage allowing the little hellions to herd their prey right into a trap.

She purrs as she slams the door closed behind the mech’s tail and locks the cage. She’ll put them all in stasis before they start walking so they can’t unbalance the cage in a bid to escape but for now she leans down to nuzzle her mechlings.

“Very good~ Got a lot ta learn about clean work yet but ya are naturals at workin’ together.” She praises settling down next to the cage. She pulls out a couple polishing cloths to start cleaning their plating.

Jazz leans into the motion, enjoying a good polish. He’s not a vain mech by any stretch but he enjoys the social ritual of helping each other clean up. He even tends to return the gesture.

Ricochet on the other claw complains loudly about being too old to be cleaned. He noticeably doesn’t try to  _ move away _ but makes sure his protests are heard and acknowledged the entire time.

\---

It’s after getting their adult upgrades that the mechlings, now mechs she supposes, make their first declaration of affiliation.

“We’re predacons. Maybe not in frame but we are.” Ricochet says polishing the adult sized claymore that had been his present. He also had some smaller swords and a crossbow but the Claymore had been his favorite weapon so Steel had commissioned the specialty blade from Kup for him.

Jazz nods in agreement testing the tension on his own new weapon, a compound bow. Another specialty request Steel had made to Kup. Outside the long range weapon Jazz favored a plethora of small, sharp daggers for close quarters silent kills. 

“We’re yers down ta the struts.” He comments releasing the bow string to look up at Steel with an earnest look on his faceplates.

“Yea… yer my bitties.” Steel smiles laying her helm down on the ground watching the pair happily.


	5. Chapter Five: Meeting the Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: PastelAgender
> 
> This chapter was partially written for Jazz Week Day 4: Assassin and has been edited/added to below. I’ve had this mostly done since the first chapter was written lol.

A smooth dull silver shadow darts through the crystal trees, tracking the much louder pedesteps of a predacon racing away from them. A sharp grin splits scarred faceplates, the shadow dips under fallen crystals the larger mecha would need to go over or around. Sensory Panels twitch and turn catching the faint sound of two other mecha chasing their prey.

The silver mech herds the frantic monster towards one of the sets of faint pedesteps. Sliding under a low branch just as a dark matte grey predacon leaps out of the shadows, throwing the larger dark green and yellow winged predacon to the ground with the surprise force.

Simultaneously the silver mech and a tarnished bronze mech dart out from the tree cover. In a flash both are holding daggers and make long slashes down the struggling predacon’s wings, marking him as a disgraced criminal. They then move on to attacking the soft scales at the armpit, elbow, and knee.

The matte grey predacon snarls and sinks their fangs into the neck of their prey, the two beasts struggling for power. The green predacon flails their wings and arms but can’t get a grip on the smaller beast.

Just as quickly as the fight started, it’s over with a quick deep slash from long talons into the green predacon’s chest. Abruptly the beast stops fighting, slumping to the ground. Their colors started to pale then grey.

The matte predacon does not release their hold on the limp predacon until they are totally grey.

“Good clean work bitties. Brimstone won’t be harassin’ anyone anymore.” The surviving predacon slips off her prey, deftly removing the elongated talons attached to her natural claws. She subspaces the tools.

“Ain’t bitties no more. Ain’t been bitties a long time Ri. Megs will be happy he’s not givin’ us a bad name no more.” The bronze mech purrs happily, wiping the energon off his dagger on his thigh before subspacing it.

“We got company.” The silver mech comments, his visor and sensory wings focused on the crystal trees around them.

“I apologize, I did not mean to interrupt. I see you have dealt with the Acid Predacon that has been plaguing the nearby villages already.” A black and white Praxian framed mech slips out from the shadow of a looming crystal tree. His calculating blue optics glancing first to the fallen Predacon then to the mecha gathered around it.

“What ya want.” The silver mech demands visor watching the mech’s actions with sharp attention

“Well… I was employed to extinguish that predacon. But as it is not my kill I can not reasonably request the helm to prove his deactivation.” Icy optics meet the cold visor questioning him.

“Frag right ya can’t. Stealin’ a mecha’s helm is barbaric. ‘N’  _ we’re _ the savages?” The bronze mech exclaims, plating bristling at the implication.

“Apologizes, I can see how that would be viewed from your side. However, I can not well drag an entire deactivated predacon to a dozen villages that need proof the mechanism that was attacking them is no longer a threat.” He turns his helm to meet the fiery gaze of the bronze mech.

“Ya an assassin too huh?” The silver mech asks, wiping his dagger clean on his arm before subspacing it.

“A Knight actually.” The Praxian corrects glancing to the silver mech but maintaining his gaze on the bronze mech.

The dull grey predacon snorts flicking her tail.

“Got a name there Knight?” She questions moving to put herself between the Praxian and the assassinated predacon.

The Praxian bops his doorwings at her respectfully.

“Of course. I am Prowl of Petrex,” He shifts, keeping the bronze mech in his peripheral vision but looking to the femme, “What are your names?” He questions.

“Ah’m Steelblazer, these are ma bitties Ricochet ‘n’ Jazz.” Steelblazer gestures first to the bronze mech, who growls, and then to the silver, who gives a lazy wave.

“So what ya want to drag off our kill ‘n’ claim ya killed ‘im?” Ricochet butts in glaring at Prowl.

“No. However, I am forbidden to re-enter Petrex until the council receives proof the predacon has been dealt with. If there were some proof I could give them that someone else dealt with the Acid Predacon?” He questions glancing between the three, surely there must be something that will suffice as proof in absence of the helm.

“Ya can’t take anythin’ off da frame. Megatron ain’t take kindly ta ya vehicle mecha stealing our frame or parts. None av us do really but Megatron is a big scary fragger ya  _ really _ don’t wanna piss off.” Steel cuts in before Ricochet can get  _ more _ huffy with the Knight who’s just trying to do his  _ own _ job. She can respect that this Knight seems to specialize in dealing with predacons that are actually a problem, he doesn’t have the scent of innocents on him.

“I see. Would it be possible for me to bring a co-worker here to vouch he witnessed the predacon’s greyed frame? It would require a bit of a fight but I have documented 6 other incidents where for various reasons another Knight was used as a witness instead of bringing the frame as proof.” The Praxian lowers his wings to a respectful angle of a mech who knows he is asking for something inconvenient.

“That sounds reasonable. We’ll wait here for ya ta return.” Steel nods settling down, they need to wait for Blockaide to catch up to them anyway. She’s not strong enough to carry Brimstone herself, and he’s not fast enough to keep up with the chase.

“Thank you. I will return in three orns.” Prowl turns and disappears into the trees, choosing to walk quickly instead of attempting to transform and drive through the forest.


	6. Chapter Six: Fragile Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl returns with his witness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: PastelAgender

Jazz works on building a little fire, away from the frame and nowhere near any spills of energon, to keep warm as the sunsets. The planet is getting cold quickly at night this time of vorn. If they could set up in a cave it wouldn’t be as bad but they need to stay out where that mecha, Prowl, can find them. Blockaide could easily track them to a cave if they wanted to go through the effort to drag the frame there; they have no idea how good at tracking the vehicle mech is.

Ricochet tosses a crystal with a little energon on it into the fire, grinning as it shatters. Ignoring the annoyed look Jazz is giving him in response.

“We really gotta help that roller? Ain’t like they ever do anything good for us.” He questions glancing to Steel.

Steel huffs stretching out on the ground, giving Ricochet a pointed look.

“I dunno. They gave me ya two. Dat was pretty good av ‘em.” She comments wryly.

Rico gives Steel an unimpressed look, not taking any of her cheesy carrier slag.

\---

They spend the next few orns taking turns hunting while they wait for Blockaide to catch up and for Prowl to return with whoever he plans on using as a witness. Jazz and Rico whittle the time away wrestling each other. There was a good few vorns where they could wrestle with the youngling predacons but their friends just kept growing much faster than them. They learned pretty quickly that they could only guarantee each other would be small enough to  _ really _ wrestle against.

Prowl ends up returning first, a strange blue helicopter mech with claws for servos and a single optic set in a blank face trotting behind him. The mech’s yellow optic takes in the two wrestling polyhexians, dull grey predacon and greyed frame quickly. He cackles darting to get a closer look at the frame.

“Wow you did a number to this guy! He look at you funny or something?” The mech snickers circling the greyed predacon before returning to where Prowl is standing stiffly.

Prowl looks entirely uncomfortable with the mech’s presence, not the same careful posture he had taken with mecha he was unfamiliar with. This was a pointed stiff caution of a mecha one was familiar with.

“You will tell the council you saw the greyed frame, Whirl?” Prowl confirms giving the blue mech a firm look, his words careful and exact. He knows being vague will only compound the problem.

“Yeah yeah. I saw the grey frame. I’ll tell Mesothulas you aren’t a liar.” Whirl confirms then his optic narrows as if some thought has just occurred to him. He clacks his claws together.

Prowl gives a disapproving rumble of his engine, he knows that look. That look means Whirl is plotting. A plotting Whirl is never a good thing. Before Prowl can open his mouth to call Whirl out there is a rumbling on the ground.

Blockaide comes tromping through the trees, despite his huge size he is carefully slinking between the crystal trees not knocking any down. He pauses looking from Prowl to Whirl then to Steel tilting his head slightly and brushing her with his field in confusion.

“This is Knight Prowl ‘n’ Knight Whirl. Da Knight Council av Petrex assigned Prowl ta take care av Brimstone but we got ta him first. Now he needs a witness ta prove Brimstone isn’t goin’ ta be causin’ any more trouble.” Steel explains gesturing to each mech in turn then to the greyed frame. She idly wonders what trouble Whirl is going to cause but it’s not her problem so she only cares for curiosity sake.

Blockaide nods looking down to the small vehicle mechs, or well they certainly seem small from his perspective. He’s one of the largest sizes possible in Predacon so about all vehicle mechs are tiny compared to him.

“Have you gotten everything you need? We should really begin moving while it is still light out.” He asks politely, moving carefully towards the frame in preparation to carry it back to their capitol.

“Yes… Thank you for your aid. We will be taking our leave back to Petrex.” Prowl gestures for Whirl to follow, he does not want to cause trouble. Especially with such a huge predacon now present. Whirl snickers and transforms taking off vertically dodging tree branches to take the direct route back to Petrex, leaving Prowl to keep up on the ground.

Prowl sighs slowly through all his vents before taking off at a jog into the forest to find a path he can drive over.

Blockaide gives Steel another curious look before laying down so she and the mechlings can haul the frame onto his back and tie it down so he can carry it for them. He could have brought a hover sled to drag along but those are always a pain to move through the forest.


	7. Chapter Seven: Shattered Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: PastelAgender
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Past Character Death. Not Graphic just a passing mention of mecha who are no longer alive.

Prowl drives up to the gates of the town, blipping his sirens at the guards as he transforms. He gestures up to the sky.

“Did Whirl actually return to town? He is supposed to act as a witness for me.” He asks, keeping his voice mostly flat.

“Yes. Witness for what?” The matte black painted guard on the left called Deep Cover responds.

“The Predacons dealt with the Acid Predacon before I could catch up to it. He witnessed the grey frame.” Prowl keeps his answers short, he does not want to give Mesothulas too much of a head start to try and run him around. The less prepared the scientist is for his argument the better. He cannot find some obscure, oft ignored law to barricade Prowl’s way if he does not have time to search the archives.

“Yeah okay sure.” The glossy silver mech on the right snorts rolling his optics.

“Do you object to something I have stated, Clampdown?” Prowl questions narrowing his optics, “If you see some fault in my argument after the hearing, according to section 6 of the Knight code you are welcome to air your grievances at the next hearing with evidence to support your stance.”

Clampdown huffs tugging the gate open gesturing Prowl through.

“Go bother someone else with your Eidetic Memory Banks.” He grumbles.

Prowl heads directly for the council building, the sooner they know he has arrived the sooner the hearing can be called together. Before he can even get halfway there Mesothulas intercepts his path smiling sweetly.

“Prowl! My sweetspark what are you doing back? Where is that Acid Predacon’s helm dear?” He tries to drape an arm over Prowl’s shoulders but the Praxian swiftly ducks down and away from the gesture.

“Obviously I am going to the council building to call for a hearing to present evidence to that effect.” Prowl comments icily watching Mesothulas warily.

“Oh dear.. That is going to be an issue. All hearing requests are delayed for at least a decaorn. Octane had a terrible emergency to take care of in Vos you see.” Mesothulas smiles at Prowl in a way the Praxian is certain is supposed to be comforting but just looks maniacal to him.

“I see… You will not be offended if I go to the council building to check in despite that. I do not want anyone claiming I did not follow procedure putting you in a tough spot.” Prowl starts moving backwards, never taking his optics off Mesothulas but checking his surroundings with his doorwings to ensure he does not bump into anyone.

Mesothulas nods agreeably, still smiling that too-wide smile.

“Of course my sweetspark. Do remember the rules of course. Until the hearing you are not to break your no-contact orders. We wouldn’t want to get those bitties hopes up would we, while we are still coming to an agreement on their custody?” He coos sweetly.

Prowl’s doorwings stiffen as he fights not to react, gritting his denta together.

“Of course.” He says shortly shifting and retreating, not turning his back on the slimy copter until he is out of sight. Then he abruptly spins around and speedwalks to the council building.

As he shoulders his way into the building he looks tiredly towards the desk, his doorwings dip in relief when he sees Inferno has been roped into manning the reception desk.

“Inferno, good. Is what Mesothulas says true? Has Octane been summoned to attend an emergency?” He asks quietly, moving to stand in front of the fire engine.

“Unfortunately so. He took off sputtering something about Vos and Scraplets but it did not make much sense.” Inferno shrugs helplessly, he and Red Alert are often floating around the building taking care of some sort of security issue or another, any excuse to keep Red out of the field it seems.

“Unmaker take him. Scraplets cannot even get into Vos, he is probably just meeting up with Sa-” Prowl abruptly cuts off as he feels the vibrations of someone coming towards the door at the side of the room. He remains tense waiting to see if it is one of the mechs with better audials or..

“Red Alert…” Prowl breaths relieved at the sight of his Amica.

Red Alert gives a small smile moving to quickly wrap Prowl up in a hug, one the Praxian leans into with a pleasant rumble.

“Have you… where is the helm?” His optics narrow scanning the area around them but there is no sign of the predacon helm Prowl was supposed to return with. He adjusts his grip easily as the slightly smaller Praxian leans his full weight into him.

“Some Predacons deactivated him first. Whirl is supposed to be my witness that the predacon is deactivated as taking the helm was categorically shut down as an option.” Prowl murmurs against Red Alert’s shoulder. He is so tired.

“Then let’s go home for now. There’s nothing to be done here, we’ll prepare for the hearing. Gather our evidence of precedent…” Red Alert trails off into barely audible mumbling, his horns sparking occasionally as he plots to aid his Amica’s continuing fight against the council.

Inferno signs out of the reception system before leading the pair of cars from the council building off to the little home they have in the outskirts. Many low level Knights are assigned these homes, and despite their combined success being in High Knight territory the council has refused to approve new accommodations for the trio.

Red Alert, not incorrectly, raves that it is just another attempt by Mesothulas to keep Prowl from being able to meet the requirements to take custody of his siblings without bowing to the madmech’s demands.

Prowl manages to keep his emotions together until they are safely locked in the veritable fortress Red Alert has turned their tiny home into. Once there he breaks down into sobs, burying his helm into Red Alert’s side as his frame shakes with anguish. A decaorn delay will give Mesothulas all the time he needs to find some slag reason to once again demand Prowl bond to him to make all his problems go away.

Red Alert holds Prowl tight, muttering reassurances that they will pull together everything they need to take Mesothulas down in his own game. They will prove the predacon was deactivated by his fellows, and they will, eventually, evaporate the very last thing stopping Prowl from being the caretaker of his younger siblings.

“Smokescreen already hates me Red… Mesothulas has already damaged my relationship with them, perhaps irreparably. Smokescreen refused to come to the last two visits… he almost convinced Bluestreak not to come to the last one.” Prowl’s voice is thick with static as he slumps miserably against the slightly larger frame.

“Smokescreen will forgive you once Mesothulas stops jerking you all around. He’s a smart bitlet. He'll see who the real problem is soon enough. And we will all be a family again.” Red soothes rubbing Prowl’s backplates between his doorwings.

Prowl feels abruptly guilty as he remembers Red Alert’s own siblings had been sent far away. To some friend of his carrier’s under the assumption there was no one here to care for them. Red Alert had been Conjunxed, he and Inferno could have cared for the Sparklings.

Red feels the shift in his Amica’s field and hushes him.

“Don’t you dare. It is  _ not _ your fault. They are safe wherever they are, and as soon as we have Smokescreen and Bluestreak we’ll go looking for Carrier’s old colleague and we’ll all be safe.” He gently rocks, repeating their plan like a mantra. He hadn’t been ready to be a caretaker when Perceptor and Tigertrack were killed in that Predacon attack with Prowl’s own Carrier. He still was not ready but they would find his brothers and he would be a part of their lives at least.

There is a soft rumble and Prowl suddenly has a bulking weight of a tamed Nitrotiger shoving against his side. He shifts to wrap one arm around the beast, keeping the other around Red as he slowly cries himself out.

“Even Stripes likes the plan” Red insists, slightly smugly. He had further trained his Sire’s wild companion to be a gentle little spy for them, outfitting the beast with some hidden recorders and a rudimentary AI for the task.

\---

A decaorn later Octane returns from Vos, Prowl had been keeping a close optic on the skies and the gates so he could immediately go to the council to schedule a hearing. Somehow despite being there near immediately, the earliest hearing he could get was the following orn. He quietly fumed at the obvious attempt to put him off balance but politely accepted the scheduling and returned home to plot.

Over the next orn he arranged everything he needed for his case. Several datapads bearing other cases that set a precedent for this situation. An account of his first meeting with the predacons, and his journey to get Whirl. His account of the second meeting with the predacons. He even took the time to follow up with Whirl that the mech was still going to testify, and despite the fact he could tell the mech was up to something Whirl swore he was going to provide his testimony the following orn.

With that assurance Prowl returned home to curl up with Stripes, Red Alert and Inferno were having their customary date night of the decaorn. Prowl knew they would return late in the night, but he would see them in the morning before his hearing. He buried his helm into Stripes’ shoulder slowly drifting into recharge, planning contingencies of contingencies in hopes that this might be the case that finally tips this 10 vorn long war against Mesothulas in his favor.

\---

Prowl should have known better, it could never be that easy. Whether Mesothulas offered Whirl some kind of reward to lie or Whirl simply decided lying in court would be amusing Prowl cannot say. He merely stares in disbelief at the helicopter as he tells the court he never saw a greyed frame, nor any of the predacons Prowl claims took it down. Prowl’s spark sinks as the council eats up the lies. His entire case is shattered without Whirl’s testimony, he was relying on precedent.

Prowl sits quietly at his table while the council discusses in the offices behind the hearing chambers but he knows what verdict they will turn back. He will be sent away again without visitation to his brothers. He will have to try and convince those predacons, perhaps even their leader, to allow him to take some kind of evidence back to Petrex.

He starts compiling everything he knows about the predacon seat of power, about which direction he should start his search. He wishes he stayed to take note of which way they left but he did not believe he would need to know. He should never have trusted Whirl. He should have taken the longer path to search out Blurr instead. It would have taken longer to catch up with the predacons, because surely they would have started to move after he was late, but he would have had a reliable unbiased witness.

Prowl is sitting stony faced when the council returns and delivers their verdict.

“In light of your attempt to lie, we have decided you must bring the predacon’s helm to the council building. No other proof will be accepted, if you fail to procure this proof you will be exiled from Petrex and the Knights” Mesothulas declares, grinning at Prowl.

Prowl dips his helm and wings in acknowledgement, accepting the punishment but planning all the while. He will bring the helm back, and he will find some means to turn this in his favor. There must be some way to beat Mesothulas at his own game. Once he is released from the council room he ducks off through a winding covered path to prevent Mesothulas from making any propositions.

He meets up with Red and Inferno updating them on the events, he needs to prepare his weapons and rations. Red and Inferno help him repack his subspace with fresh supplies before they both catch him up in a hug. He learns into the affection with a sigh, he will have to work even harder now to win against this. He needs to find those predacons quickly, is there any hope he can catch up with them before they arrive at this Megatron’s nest?

Prowl sets out that afternoon, he does not want to waste any more time in town where Mesothulas will simply use this latest slight to promise Prowl the world for the price of bonding. He has to find those predacons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m aware Mesothulas is supposed to be some kind of Motorcycle, but for the purpose of this story he needs to fly so I’ve made him a Helicopter.


	8. Chapter Eight: Catching Up and Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl struggles to catch up with Steelblazer, Jazz and Ricochet and finds something along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: PastelAgender
> 
> A Hic is roughly a Kilometer according to the TFWiki page on Units of Length.  
> A Vun is roughly a Hectometer (100 meters) according to the TFWiki page on Units of Length.
> 
> The Time Scale I use:  
> Klik- Cybertronian Second  
> Breem- Cybertronian Minute  
> Joor- Cybertronian Hour  
> Orn- Cybertronian Day (32 Joors)  
> Decaorn- Cybertronian Week (10 Orns)  
> Megaorn- Cybertronian Month (4 Decaorns)  
> Vorn- Cybertronian Year (13 Megaorns)  
> Chapter Warning: Mentions of Medical Equipment and Testing. (More Details and how to skip in endnotes)

Prowl manages to find and track the predacon’s movements for several hics over the course of several orns in the right direction. Their path is a little winding but it seems they are mostly avoiding narrow passages and dense forests. He considers this logical given how large the final-arrived member of their party was. He has a rough idea of which direction they seem to be going in, but no way of knowing for sure so he elects to stick to tracking them until he can find some form of confirmation where they are headed.

Then, just his luck, an acid rainstorm hits. He quickly scrambles for cover in a shallow cave, there’s a cave-in shortly inside leaving it to just be an alcove in reality. At least it puts several hundred hics of mountain above him to protect against the rainfall. He stares out the cave, the trail will be washed away if it goes on too long. He sighs shaking his helm and setting up camp for now, he might as well take the chance to rest and refuel.

\---

Several joors later when the rain finally lets up Prowl attempts to refind the trail, unfortunately it has been too long in the rain for the trail to survive. He returns to his camp packing up quickly. He will just follow the direction they seemed to be traveling, there must be some mechanisms along the way that he can interview for narrower directions. In the back of his helm he makes plans for what to do if he cannot find the predacons. Idle contingencies just in case he needs to make some other move on Mesothulas. 

Prowl travels in the direction he picked for several orns, occasionally changing direction slightly as helpful mechanisms point him in the direction they have seen predacons. By the time another full decaorn has passed, it has become painfully obvious to Prowl that he is being led in circles. Sometimes sent chasing the trail of a completely different predacon.

He circles back towards the last small town he spotted, hoping there may be a Knight from any sect who can tell him any information they have on the predacon seat of power. If he can gather enough data he should be able to predict the rough area this Megatron’s nest is in then once close enough plead a case to the predacons to have an audience with him.

Once in the little town he spends several orns speaking with Knights from various sects, some are more helpful than others. Every sect has their own set of rules, though within the laws the Prime set, so some guard their information as ‘trade secrets’ which only those within the sect may be privy to. Most of the information he gathers helps him narrow down his search area but it is still frustratingly large, he could work with this large area but it would take him decaorns if not megaorns to search it all.

At the end of yet another decaorn, when Prowl is reluctantly preparing to just accept the large search area he has found a mostly white Flier with some red and black accents approaches him.

“Hello young friend. What seems to be troubling you?” He questions with a gentle smile.

Prowl watches him carefully, he’s aware his emotions do not often display on his face or doorwings so the fact this stranger can read his mood when his EM field is held tight against his plating is suspicious.

“What makes you believe something is troubling me, stranger?” He counters coldly, he is not in the mood to play games.

“Your aura… It’s turbulent, filled with frustration and sadness.” The flier explains seeming to look straight through the Praxian.

“My Aura?” Prowl questions flatly, without taking his optics off the odd mech he tunes his doorwings to the area around him selecting an escape route if this screwy mech tries anything. He would rather avoid a fight, even one in self defense from some delusional mech.

“Oh yes. It is clear as day to those that know what to look for. We of the Circle of Light specialize in it in particular.” The mech gives Prowl another gentle smile as he meets the Praxian’s cold gaze.

Prowl’s frame gives no outward change but he relaxes several of his defense protocols. The Circle of Light is a well known, if a little eccentric, sect of Knights. Many of the other sects claim they must have access to several forms of advanced technology to be able to do many of the ‘miracles’ their sect is capable of. Among which is indeed the claim to see ‘auras’ or more likely some technology that can read EM fields from a larger distance than Cybertronians are naturally capable of.

“I see. And what is your designation, sir?” He asks politely, while no one knows the designations of everyone in every sect he has compiled one of the more complete lists of known members of various sects. If this mech is truly from the Circle of Light and is as old as he implies by calling Prowl young he should have some record of this mech’s designation.

“Ah how rude of me. I am Wing, and you?” Wing places one servo on his own chestplates and bows slightly.

Prowl relaxes completely, canceling his threads searching for an escape. Wing is a well known member of the Circle of Light, he’s said to be eccentric but kind. Prowl had never seen the mech prior to now but his alt-mode and colorscheme roughly matches up with the descriptions he has heard.

“Prowl. As to the trouble, I am attempting to catch up to a group of predacons who have taken a deactivated criminal predacon to their leader, Megatron. I was assigned to extinguish that predacon but they caught up to him first. I attempted to have another Knight act as witness but for whatever reason he decided to lie. The council of my town and sect of Knights have given me an ultimatum, bring his helm or be exiled.” He finds himself explaining the entire situation instead of just asking if the other knows the rough whereabouts of the predacon seat of power the way he had with the other Knights. He will have to keep this desire to be honest with the other in check, it could prove troublesome.

“I see that is unfortunate. The Predacon Capitol is said to reside deep in the Manganese Mountains, surrounded on all sides by mountains and cliffs or even carved into them.” Wing comments turning to point in the appropriate direction.

Prowl turns to look as well, humming softly. The direction he mapped the trail taking before it was washed away did roughly wind towards those mountains. Deep within and completely surrounded would be one of the Triptych Peaks, most likely the center one as it is the most surrounded including its brothers. He turns back to Wing bowing deeply with both his chassis and doorwings.

“Thank you. I will try that direction.” He rises, pausing to give the other a chance to speak if he wishes to, when Wing just waves him off he nods and starts walking with a new purpose.

\---

Prowl spends another decaorn traveling deep into the Manganese Mountains, he is just a few orns out from the Triptych Peaks when another acid storm threatens to break. He quickly ducks into the first cave he spots, taking out a spear and blipping his sirens to spook any predators that might be inside but when he lights up the cave with his headlights there is no sign of wildlife. Just as he is about to turn so he can set up camp relatively close to the cave entrance, his lights catch on a door in the wall towards the back of the cave. It looks like someone either set a door in the wall, or created a false cave wall with a door set in it. He approaches the door curiously, there is no reason for there to be a door in this cave. 

He carefully picks the lock to a strange door, that has no right to be in a cave. It is too small to be for a predacon, even their smallest numbers are bigger than a medium size Mech which is what this door is built for. His inner investigator cannot just ignore the door, besides the storm has trapped him in the cave for the next while. Once he has gotten the lock open he puts the picks away and takes out one of his spears.

He slowly opens the door ready to defend himself if someone is waiting inside to attack. His gaze sweeps the room first for threats then when nothing is immediately apparent he sweeps his gaze over the room again slowly this time taking in the room. There are several lab tables, a variety of machines Prowl only vaguely knows the uses of, cabinets along the walls presumably with supplies for whatever experiment is being done in this room, a few large clear containers on inset shelves with preserved helms of Predacons, a huge tube fill with purple tinted liquid with a tiny 3ft predacon floating in it connected to all kinds of wires and tubes, some small measur-

Prowl’s gaze snaps back to the huge tube with a tiny predacon in it. He spreads his doorwings out and ups the sensor strength until he can feel the buzz of machinery and… and the soft faint pulse of a spark. A  _ newspark _ . He does not even think, subspacing his spear he moves automatically to the tube. On closer inspection it has a rudimentary spark monitor and a few other jury rigged screens with various medical looking readouts attached to the side. 

Prowl connects to the cold machinery ignoring the crawling feeling that comes with attaching to sparkless machines. He examines the code intently, the sparkling is at least healthy but no newspark should be wired up to so many machines. He reviews the backlogs of data at a speed only possible due to his powerful processors, eventually he determines there seems to be no medical reason the sparkling is in this… stasis chamber? At least from his limited medical knowledge he sees no reason the newspark would need to be in this machine. 

Prowl works for joors until he has safely initiated the release protocols. He pulls back from the machine, disconnecting his cold wires, only keeping enough attention on the readout to be sure the sparkling is safe. As soon as enough liquid has drained out that he can open the tube he does so and scoops the sparkling out, carefully disengaging all the wires and tubes attached to them. He moves to the nearest table, setting the sparkling down. He watches with baited vents as the sparkling opens all their vents to let out any liquid that entered their systems. He carefully strokes them to get more of the purple tinted guk off, slowly revealing their colors to be a soft green with yellow accents. They cough up some liquid from their intakes but otherwise seem to adapt to the atmosphere well.

Once the little one has settled down their little blue optics flicker online to examine the world around them. A long tail flicks back and forth, little feathers partially stuck to their hips attempt to flair out for balance. Tiny wings flutter on their back. There’s a straight crest on top of their helm.

Prowl believes the little one might be a mech, though he is unsure all the marks of a mech predacon verses a femme predacon. He has never needed to know such social information, the distinction only really matters among friends. One of the traits their frame types have in common. He strokes the little mechling’s neck cables soothingly.

In response the little sparkling plants his legs more firmly, wiggles his hindquarters then with a powerful kick of his hindlegs springs up onto Prowl’s chassis. He plants himself right over Prowl’s spark chamber and magnetizes in place with a happy coo. Prowl instinctively curls his servos over the tiny frame, optics flickering as his coding goes into overdrive settling the sparkling as his own. Carrier coding that had been trying futally to attach to his brothers for 10 vorns finally settles some with a sparkling to latch on to.

Prowl forgets about the lab around him, sinking to his knees clinging to the sparkling as their sparks sync in a Creator-Creation bond.

\---

Once the storm passes Prowl carefully transfers the sparkling into his cab before resuming his path into the mountains. He sends steady pulses of calm, and love to the sparkling to reassure the little one they are safe. He will have to be careful if this comes to a fight, he has no means to secure a predacon sparkling to the seats in his cab so any tumbles he takes would cause the little one to slide around. 

Prowl’s doorwings twitch then spread out as he feels… something… in the air. Whatever it is seems to be meant to discourage him from continuing but he presses forward despite it. He  _ must _ speak with those predacons, he cannot afford to turn back now. He continues to send pulses down the fledgeling creator bond he’s formed with the sparkling, the little one seems upset by the strange static in the air. It almost feels like a vast EM field brimming with hate, but Prowl has never heard of anything that could extend an EM field this wide.

After several orns Prowl starts to see signs of permanent residence in the area, he picks where to set up camp more and more carefully wanting to avoid trouble. He is not certain where in these mountains the leader is but he can only assume high up the center peak, in the most defensible location. Traversing with the sparkling is slightly slower than traveling on his own had been. He must stop frequently to allow the little one to fuel, as the bond solidifies they fall into rhythm with each other.

It’s on the dawn of the fifth orn that several things change, firstly the sparkling is chattering in basic over the bond. Secondly, there are tracks marking various well worn paths not far ahead. And thirdly the huge blue predacon that had joined the assassins bellows some kind of warning up on a nearby cliff.

Prowl quickly slides down on one knee as a Silver and Gold blur dives towards him. One servo curled over his chest where his sparkling cab is, the other quickly drawing a spear to defend himself. The ground gives a rattle as the huge blue predacon jumps down from his perch, he rears up on his hind legs and… grabs the Silver and Gold aerial predacon that swung around to take a second dive at Prowl.

“Col, Col calm down! You’re going to separate early if you don’t!!” The blue predacon babbles worriedly at the flier.

Slowly the silver and gold flier settles down, wings giving a few more frustrated flaps but clearly the larger mecha is either too strong or simply too heavy for them to gain any ground.

“What is a roller doing here? It’s suppose to be safe from them!” The silver and gold flier, a femme if the vocalizer is anything to go on, whines pitifully.

“I mean no harm… I simply must speak with Steelblazer, Ricochet and Jazz…I’m sorry I never caught your designation sir.” Prowl trails off looking up at the huge mech and his companion.

“Oh I guess I never introduced myself. I’m Blockaide and this is my sparkmate, Collet Pinion.” Blockaide smiles, showing off rows of sharp denta unintentionally.

Collet huffs opticing Prowl, she gives a little growl huddling close to her larger mate.

“Why do ya need to talk to Steel? I thought you and her already sorted everything out.” Blockaide asks curiously tilting his helm.

“So did Ah. What are ya doin’ here Prowl.” A familiar voice calls down from the same cliff Blockaide came down from.

Prowl risks a glance up to Steelblazer, noting Jazz and Ricochet are at the edge as of the cliff as well, before returning his focus to the still very irritated looking femme predacon.

“I thought so as well. Whirl, however, had other plans. He lied to the council about the frame. They have exiled me until I provide the helm as proof, I came looking for you to speak about any way we could prove Brimestone’s deactivation without the helm.” He comments, as the silence stretches on he wishes he could see their faceplates to know what they feel about this development.

“Slag mech, what did someone bribe the guy?” Jazz’s voice pipes up terrifyingly close, Prowl cannot help but snap his helm to the side to see Jazz standing not one vun away.

“I… am not certain. The chances of Whirl being bribed are equal to the chances he simply decided it would be funny to lie. How did you get down so fast?” Prowl optics the cliff face, which Steelblazer and Ricochet are still picking their way down.

“Frag if that’s the kinda mechs in yer current town why not just cut yer losses ‘n’ move somewhere yer more welcome.” Jazz questions, ignoring Prowl’s own question for the time being.

“... My youngling brothers are in that town. The council will not turn over custody of them to me until I prove I can provide for them.” Prowl murmurs slowly shifting to stand, putting his spear away for now since no one has made any signs of attack yet. He keeps one servo over his cab however, both to reassure the sparkling within and to reassure himself.

Something, perhaps optics?, flash behind Jazz’s visor; quickly followed by an outraged lash of the mech’s field.

“They are holdin’ yer brothers hostage from ya? What the actual frag?” Jazz snarls, his sensory winglets flaring out in frustration.

“Ya see, this is why Predacons are superior. Unless ya had a record of hurtin’ bitties we wouldn’t keep ya away from yer own spark kin.” Ricochet huffs moving to stand next to his sibling, he optics Prowl’s cab suspicious of how the mech is holding himself.

“Sounds like we gotta talk ta Megatron. Unless we convince Soundwave to dump Brimestone’s frame in the center of yer town as proof there’s no way we can prove his deactivation ta those fraggers' satisfaction.” Steelblazer comments moving to stand partially over Jazz and Ricochet, she flicks her tail at Blockaide and Collet seeming to signal they can leave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Medical Equipment and Testing- Mentions of a Predacon Sparkling being kept in a test tube of sorts hooked up to medical equipment.  
> Skip starting from “He slowly opens the door…”  
> Safe to start reading from “Once the little one has…”


	9. Chapter Nine: Adorable Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adorable Sparklings are very distracting from important business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: PastelAgender

Steel leads Prowl to the temporary nest Jazz, Ricochet, and her have set up in the capitol. They don’t live here often enough for a permanent nest to be maintained for them when they wander off to hunt. They have taken one of the lower caves, without a cliff directly in front of it so she doesn’t have to worry about falling. Once they are all settled in the nest within Steel turns her helm to Prowl.

“Megatron’s busy with otha meetin’s right now, He’ll ping me when he has a moment ta speak with ya. Until then--” Steel starts to chat only to give Ricochet an annoyed look as he interrupts.

“What do ya got in yer Cab?” He growls eyeing Prowl suspiciously.

Before Prowl can really open his mouth to reply there is a soft beeping from within his cab. The sparkling picked up on the danger seeming to pass and now wants fuel thank you very much. Prowl sighs opticing the gathered predacons before hesitantly opening his cab and removing the soft green and yellow predacon sparkling from his cab. As the cab closes he initiates the transformation that bares a feeding line for the sparkling to latch on to. The two transformation sequences are designed not to interfere with each other, allowing the carrier to transfer a sparkling directly to fueling from transporting.

As the sparkling latches on to fuel off Prowl’s processed energon Ricochet bristles his plating, assuming the worst of the strange Knight.

“Where da frag did ya get a sparklin’ from?!” He snarls standing ready to storm towards Prowl.

Prowl curls his servos around the sparkling, jerking his doorwings up into an agressive “V” in response to Ricochet’s bristling. His engine rumbles in a dangerous warning, his optics flash and change to yellow as he bares his short fangs. He’s the picture of a protective carrier.

“He’s mine, he was alone. He needed me. He’s mine” He rumbles, voice nearly dipping down into the melodic Praxian dialect instead of neocybex.

Steel quickly rises, scooping Ricochet up and depositing him at the far end of the nest, physically putting herself between her grown bitlets and Prowl. Jazz immediately darts behind one of Steel’s forearms, keeping his armor loose and projecting he means no harm.

“Alright. Alright, Calm down mech. What’s his name? What hotspot ya find him at, we need ta know which one’s actively makin’ predacons so we can get ‘em inta nests.” Steel croons gently, keeping any accusation or aggression out of her field. It’s clear to her Prowl has already formed a Carrier-Creation bond, so there’s no separating the two. It’s better to focus on there potentially being a hotspot that’s starting to be active than sit here playing the accusation game.

Prowl keeps his doorwings up in a “V”, though his engine throttles back as no one shows any signs of attacking. He keeps his servos curled over the confused sparkling on his chassis.

“Not hotspot… lab. I found him alone… so I took him. Sparklings shouldn't be in test tubes…” He growls shifting his weight, ready to bolt if he has to. He won’t allow them to take his sparkling.

Ricochet darts around Steel trying to tackle Prowl, who’s engine snarls as he jumps back away from the incoming threat. Before either can make a move to injure the other Steel sweeps her clawed servo between the two picking up Ricochet and this time deposits the angry mech up on the highest shelf inset into the wall, with a sweep of her tail the bedding that was near that wall is bundled away from it.

“Ya stay up there ya lil’ scraplet ‘n’ calm da frag down.” She huffs giving Ricochet an annoyed look. She turns her attention back to Prowl only to see Jazz is quietly reassuring the carrier they aren’t going to take the sparkling away. She settles down until she’s laying, making herself as small as she can without transforming into her disguise. 

After a few breems Jazz manages to convince Prowl to settle down and let them get a better look at his sparkling.

“He’s a cute little guy. Ya never did tell us his name.” Jazz smiles wiggling his winglets a little in a friendly gesture.

“... Springer. He likes the name Springer.” Prowl murmurs, his optics tinted green now as blue light bleeds back into them. He removes one servo to allow Jazz and Steel to see little Springer.

Springer looks up at them curiously, he’s been feeling a rollercoaster of emotions off his carrier since these mecha turned up. He’s not sure yet if he likes them, they make his carrier feel lots of feelings, many of them not good. He doesn’t yet know how to use language outside the bond, so he conveys this mostly through unhappy sounding beeps at the nearest target. Which happens to be Jazz.

“Aww, sorry bitty we interrupted yer meal huh? Ya can go back ta fuelin’ we won’t bother ya none.” Jazz croons reaching to stroke the sparkling’s helm and getting bit by a still developing jaw in reply.

“Oof. Okay I brought that on mahself.” He chuckles rubbing the resulting dent on his servo.

Springer rubs his muzzle grumbling upset before turning to returning to fueling. Prowl covers Springer with both servos again, giving the sparkling both privacy and safety. They all sit quietly until Springer is done fueling, at which point the fussy sparkling interrupts the quiet with excited beeps. He seems ready to explore this new place, forgetting his earlier ire with its denizens.

Steel shifts glancing to the entrance of the cave before turning her attention back to Prowl.

“Ah asked da nearest medic ta come around. Can he take a peek at lil’ Springer ta make sure all his lil’ parts are in workin’ order?” Steel asks carefully, it was standard procedure when a sparkling was enframed to be checked over to ensure the build process went smoothly. She was a little worried hearing the sparkling was in some sort of lab, hoping it did not mean anything sinister for his frame.

Prowl’s engine rumbles in upset, as much as he knows it is needed he would prefer a medic he was familiar with. Even though logic dictates a predacon medic would be better suited to checking over Springer’s health.

“Ah can assure ya Pharma ain’t gunna take yer bitty away. He’s a mech av his word… ‘n’ he told meh he has betta things ta do than steal sparklin’s from their carriers.” Steel chuckles a little at the end, keeping her distaste for the mech out of her field and tone, no need to make this harder on them all by tainting Prowl’s opinion of the mech early.

“Unmaker take you all I really do. Ri is about fit to go into separation, I need to be at her side. Let’s see the bitty, sooner he has a clean diagnostic the sooner he can return to his carrier.” Pharma huffs barging in, tired of waiting for Steel to talk Prowl around. He optics Prowl holding out one taloned servo for the sparkling in silent request.

Prowl optics Pharma back, flaring his doorwings out then up into an aggressive “V”. He’ll pass Springer on only once he’s done assessing the medic, not a nanoklik sooner. He examines every plate and scale on the large aerial predacon for any evidence of foul play, but every inch of the mech is spotless. He also mentioned his carrier preparing to go into separation, whether that was just a ploy to get Prowl to trust him or not it cannot be completely untrue. Neither Steel nor Jazz reacted as if a blatant lie was just told. Slowly he slinks forward, reluctantly putting Springer into the offered servo with a firm pulse over the bond to ‘behave’.

Springer chirps curiously looking up at the large aerial as he’s lifted up closer to optic level. The large mech sits back on his haunches, using his other servo to scan the sparkling before plugging in to a medical port to double check the young one’s code. After several breems pass in silence with Prowl getting more and more agitated, Pharma unhooks from Springer returning his optical focus to the mecha around him.

“Everything seems to be in the right order, no errors, all parts where they belong. Almost nothing to suggest anything wrong. His scent is quite odd however, it’s not the stench of a curse but it’s… off. I’ll have Soundwave’s brats search up a datapad with predacon growth projections and important milestones for you. Keep an optic that he’s within expectations and it should be fine. Return if anything odd turns up.” Before Pharma can move to return Springer to Prowl the little sparkling decides he’s bored of sitting pretty and takes a big spring out of Pharma’s servo towards the ground. His little tail feathers and tiny wings spread out though not yet developed enough to even allow him to glide.

Prowl lets out a blat of panicked static diving to catch the adventurous little scamp. Once he has the tiny mechling in his arms he gives Springer a scolding look.

“Springer.” He rumbles uneasily, communicating the rest of the reprimand through emotions over the carrier bond.

Springer for his part despite the reprimand looks very happy and excited. He beeps eagerly cuddling into his carrier, happy to be back with Prowl. He looks around happily only to find all optics and visors, including the mean mech on the shelf, are giving him disapproving looks. He chirps in confusion looking up to Prowl not sure why everyone is upset.

Prowl sighs, cuddling Springer close, stroking the sparkling’s neck cables soothingly.

“You may explore if you stop jumping from heights.” He murmurs, not certain how much the sparkling understands at this age. He is not even certain what age Springer is, he seems to be fairly recently enframed from his behavior but that terminal had quite a few logs implying he was in that state for some megaorns.

“Well.. at least no jumping without soft bedding out for landing. He is at least part aerial, he’ll want to explore verticality.” Pharma mutters gesturing to the bedding beneath most of the shelves except where Steel swept it away to prevent Ricochet from coming down until he calmed down.

Prowl’s engine rumbles un-easily at that amendment, but he  _ has _ heard that aerial mecha start to explore flight at a young age. He will need to find a flier to teach Springer to fly when the time comes until then… he supposes he will have to accept this advice to just set up soft surfaces for Springer to hop around onto.

Steel nods, turning to help Ricochet down from the shelf he had been plopped on to. When she turns back and sets Ricochet down she gestures to the cave opening.

“We’ll have ta let da lil’ guy explore later. Megatron has requested our presence.” She comments swinging her tail behind her as she waits for the smaller mecha to start moving.

Pharma takes his que to leave ahead of them, off to return his carrier’s side to aid with her separation.

Prowl nods nuzzling Springer to sooth him before moving towards the exit, hoping Megaton will agree to help him.


End file.
